by Devyn Quinn
The last message had come in before landing. Just as soon as he settled Gwen and her family into their quarters, he was to report to the lead scientist, Dr. Hali Yadira. Dr. Yadira would be leading the team through their research of the Mer species.
As for their captive subjects—
Not only were the women totally hostile toward humans, they were utterly vicious creatures to deal with. And even though they’d been stripped of all their weapons, they still packed a hell of a wallop. Their psi-kinetic abilities went through the roof, and the only way to manage it was to keep them sedated.
In order to work with them, they’d have to be allowed to resume a fully conscious state. His latest orders had instructed him to begin pumping Gwen and her sister for information as to how the Mer could be subdued without blunting their abilities.
The corpse of the civilian and the Mer killed in the fight had been sent for autopsy. Doctors there were practically salivating to get their hands on an alien life-form they could hack into tiny little pieces.
Though he knew it to be a necessary part of research, Blake thought it more than a little gruesome that anyone might enjoy cutting into dead bodies. The vision of a Nazi concentration camp flashed through his mind. It was easy to make the comparison, for both places worked with calculated precision to suppress and decimate anyone or anything deemed to be strange or different.
He grimaced. The Mer on the coroner’s table would be coming in two pieces. Tessa Randall had practically blasted her in half with that odd bejeweled weapon she’d identified as a Ri’kah.
A cadre of black midsized sedans were lined up on the tarmac. Black-suited agents with radios and head-sets hustled to collect their bags, loading them efficiently into the waiting transportation.
One agent approached, taking Whittaker aside. Portly and bald, he wheezed out his words with the effort of a man who’d long ago given up any attempt to keep himself physically fit. “Agent Whittaker,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Special Agent Dennis Thompson, director in charge of this ASD facility. Anything you need, bring it to me and it’ll be taken care of.”
An eerie feeling raced through Blake, hot and electric. He pulled his hand away. He couldn’t help it. Thompson gave him the willies. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Special Agent Thompson snatched a quick sideways glance at the small group of people accompanying Blake on the flight. His face scrunched. “My goodness, they pass well for humans,” he shared under his breath.
Refusing to be intimidated, Blake tilted forward. “You don’t have to talk about them like they’re freaks.”
Thompson’s beady gaze shifted over the women. “I’ve never been this close to an alien,” he confessed. “The few I’ve seen are usually in a deceased state.”
Blake’s jaw tightened. The man needed a few hospitality and etiquette lessons. Alien or not, the Mer deserved to be treated decently, and with a little respect. In Thompson’s mind they probably all needed to be dissected or shoved into a test tube. Blake could honestly admit he didn’t care for either notion.
He cocked his head to indicate their guests. “They might not have the same DNA we do, but they do have feelings.”
Thompson tensed. “Ah, of course they do. My apologies. I didn’t mean to be rude to those, um, people.”
To make good on his apology, Thompson stepped over to introduce himself to the new arrivals. Hands were shook and greetings exchanged.
The director indicated the waiting cars with a sweep of his hand. “If you would care to go with these agents, they will get you settled in to your new quarters.” He smiled benignly. “I think you will find our accommodations are quite comfortable. We’re putting you in the Jefferson complex.”
Agents herded Gwen and her sisters toward the waiting cars. She turned when he didn’t walk along with them. “Aren’t you coming, too, Agent Whittaker?” she asked.
Blake shook his head. “I’ve got some other matters to take care of,” he explained without going into detail.
Kenneth caught their conversation. He stopped, refusing to get in the car. “What kind of matters?” he asked suspiciously.
Blake blew out a breath. Unlike the sisters, who had begun to somewhat accept the inevitably of their situation, Randall questioned or protested every move they made. No doubt the man would step in front of a speeding freight train to protect his wife or one of her sisters. He was that devoted.
Because he’d been ordered to do everything he could to gain their trust and cooperation, Blake decided not to lie. “Actually, I’m going to pay a visit to the two ladies who attacked you. They’ve been kept under sedation and are starting to awaken. We’re in the process of arranging for them to be confined to an environment we hope they will find more suitable.”
Tessa stepped up. “Is there a chance we could go, too? I thought I recognized a couple of them, but I’m not sure.” She shrugged apologetically. “If they’re who I think they are then I am sure Jake Massey is still alive.”
Addison nodded. “I’d like to see those bitches, too,” she growled under her breath.
Gwen Lonike’s mouth drew down in a frown. She wrapped her arms protectively around her body. The rain was coming harder now, soaking everyone to the bone. The chill was starting to set in. “I’d rather not see them at all.” She released a heavy sigh. “They’ve already caused so much trouble, I just want them all to go away.” She shivered. “But I’ll go where you do.”
Blake considered. “I think that might be a good idea.” Massey’s body was never located, not an unusual occurrence when someone was lost out in the middle of a large body of water. Of course, with a couple of mermaids to grab on to, there was always the possibility he’d made it out just fine. Kenneth Randall had obviously survived his immersion. Why couldn’t Massey?
Dennis Thompson nodded. “I don’t see the harm. The hostiles will be in a controlled setting.” He waved them into the waiting cars. “If you will, we’ll take you to the main research facility.”
Blake nodded. “Let’s go.” He walked toward one of the waiting black sedans. Tessa and Kenneth slid into one car, Gwen and Addison took another. Blake took a third car, pushing himself in to sit beside Thompson. The door winged shut with an ominous slam. The driver shifted into gear and they were on their way.
Thompson didn’t miss a beat. “Do you really think it’s wise to put them all together?” he asked.
Blake raised a brow. “Why not?”
“Because of their, ah, instabilities with their, um, paranormal reserves. I understand one of the women is particularly sensitive and hard to control. Are you sure she shouldn’t be sedated as well?”
Blake couldn’t suppress his frown. “Did it ever occur to you it might be a way to try and protect herself because she’s scared out of her wits?” he retorted. “Whether you want to believe it or not, before this debacle occurred, these were just nice, normal people trying to live their lives. They’re not some kind of green, goggle-eyed monsters just come down from outer space with ray guns blasting. Their people have lived in the waters around Maine for centuries and nobody’s had a panic attack because a few mermaids are swimming in the bay.”
Thompson pursed his fat lips. “Maybe you don’t see this group as a threat, Agent Whittaker, but you have to consider that they have the potential to be very dangerous. That’s why we had to take them all into custody even though they were not the aggressors. These Mer, as they call themselves, are an entirely different species of biped. They have abilities humans are nowhere near achieving, along with a technology we can’t even begin to match. The purpose for bringing—”
Blake cut him off with a distracted wave of his hand. “Yes, I know. The purpose for containing them is to fully study the species and make a determination as to whether or not they will be allowed back into the general population.”
“Right now we’re having to take things as they come,” Thompson reminded him. “If there are indeed more of the
hostiles in the water, they will surely come ashore once they learn their compatriots have failed in their mission. As long as we have them in custody, we can protect them.”
Blake rubbed tired eyes. “And as long as we have them in our custody, we can control them and make them jump through hoops like trained seals, all in the name of scientific study.” Their every move would be monitored. What they eat, when they sleep, how they interact among themselves and others. It would all be meticulously recorded.
Thompson gave a single approving nod. “It’s what we do, Agent Whittaker,” he remarked. “You know as well as I do that sacrifices have to be made in the name of scientific advancement. The fact that we have three living hostiles gives us a lot of leeway in the testing we can execute.”
Blake winced. Execute wasn’t exactly the best choice of words in this case. “I take it you are telling me in a not so subtle way some of the tests will be quite invasive.”
Thompson nodded again. “Possibly damaging.” By the tone of his voice they might have been discussing the weather.
He glanced at Thompson’s face. Beside him sat the man who would help shape the final decision as to what would happen to the Mer. The idea of living test subjects in the hands of the government didn’t bode well. Scientists sometimes put aside all consideration of humane treatment in their zeal to further human knowledge of the world and its inhabitants. Study was one thing. Inflicting pain whether maliciously intended or not was another thing entirely.
That’s something I won’t stand for. For the first time he began to consider what he’d do if the A51 was to step over the line. No living, breathing thing—alien or human—deserved to be tormented in the name of discovery.
The word informant filtered up from his unconscious mind.
He quickly squashed the notion. Frances Fletcher had delivered the warning that he’d be taken care of if he bucked the agency.
He’d always done his job, been a good soldier. But he was also aware he was just a pawn in the larger game. And pawns were often sacrificed in the goal to achieve victory.
A bullet could come whizzing out of nowhere, at any time. He wouldn’t see it coming, and he damn sure wouldn’t survive the hit. The agency had hundreds of trained professionals, any one of whom could assassinate a fellow agent without a single twinge of conscience.
Somehow he had the notion that no one who’d just entered into this top-secret compound was safe or secure. Tessa Randall and her husband, Addison and Gwen—every single one of them was walking on thin ice.
And Blake had a feeling the ice was thinnest under his own two feet. One false step and he was sure to go under.
Gwen gripped Addison’s hand as their driver guided the vehicle toward one of the large hangars. Huge doors glided open at their approach, allowing the cars to drive straight through. The facility and its purpose was all too overwhelming for her to grasp at once.
“I don’t like this,” she whispered as the driver pulled the car to a halt.
More than a little wide-eyed, Addison squeezed her hand back. “It’s awesome,” she whispered back. “But scary.”
The car rolled to a stop. The agent driving hopped out and reached around to open a door for them. “Ladies, this way,” he invited.
Addison slid out first. Gwen followed.
The hangar that had once housed a cadre of the air force’s best fighting fleet had been converted into the command post of the scientific research center. A score of security and scientific personnel went about their business with clockwork precision.
Tessa and Kenneth joined them, followed by Thompson and Whittaker. Gwen didn’t exactly like the looks of the facility director. His gaze swept over her and her sisters like they’d grown tentacles or something. He was careful to keep his distance, too, letting Agent Whittaker herd them all like sheep.
“This way,” Thompson snapped brusquely.
They all strode toward a security desk manned by armed guards. Heavily armed guards. Thompson bent over and spoke to his men, who quickly provided a set of badges for everyone.
Gwen pinned her visitor’s badge onto her sweater. Amazingly, it had her picture on it. She wasn’t sure how they’d gotten the snap so quickly and clearly, but since security cameras peered down from all angles there was no doubt in her mind their every move was being closely recorded.
She didn’t fail to notice that Whittaker’s badge was a little bit different. His was marked SPECIAL AGENT and ALL ACCESS. The bar code and magnetic strip on the back would open any door in the facility. Her own plastic card had no bar coding or strip on the back and simply said VISITOR and LIMITED ACCESS.
With that done, Thompson ushered them all toward a set of elevator doors. “This way, folks.” He swiped his own card through a reader, and the twin doors slid open. “As you can guess, this is a high-security area. No one gets in or out without authorization.”
Everyone stepped in. The elevator whooshed down with a speed that made Gwen’s stomach roll.
Seconds later they all stepped into a foyer, also similarly stationed and manned by armed agents. Because it was a waiting area, institution-issued couches and chairs lined the walls. There was also a table surrounded by a few hard-backed metal chairs, a station stocked with coffee and soft drinks, along with the usual doors marked with the familiar MEN and WOMEN signs.
Thompson consulted one of the men in a flurry of whispered words. “Sorry for the delay,” he announced. “We’re just waiting for Dr. Yadira to join us.”
Everyone waited. Minutes ticked by and fell with the weight of lead. It seemed a whole lot of trouble just to go nowhere.
Another ten minutes passed before a woman appeared, walking down the hall toward them with brisk steps. Dressed in blue scrubs and a white coat, her black hair was pulled away from her face, twisted into a tight bun. Not a single hair was out of place. Her fawn-colored eyes were bright and alert, and her skin was a rich shade of brown. A small red bindi dot centered in the middle of her forehead was her sole concession to cosmetic wear. Two assistants in scrubs and coats followed at her heels like well-trained dogs.
Thompson stepped up and made the introductions. “This is Dr. Hali Yadira, who is leading the team’s research into the Mer. She is a marine biologist whose work with the Sirenia should come in handy with the research we have asked her to pursue here.”
Gwen’s brow wrinkled. “Wait a minute. Aren’t Sirenia sea cows?”
Doctor Yadira smiled and nodded. “Not a flattering comparison, obviously. Sirenians are also referred to by the common name of sirens, deriving from the sirens of Greek mythology. This comes from an urban legend about their discovery, involving lonely sailors mistaking them for mermaids.”
Tessa blanched. “Oh, my heavens! They’re comparing us Mer to sea cows. I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but a sea cow isn’t one of them.”
Kenneth reached for his wife’s hand. “Take it with a grain of salt, honey. They’re just uneducated about mermaids.”
Yadira nodded. “You will have to forgive our ignorance. At this time we are working with the classification of Genus Sirena in order to clarify the distinction between the two species.” She smiled. “Needless to say I am very excited about the discovery of the Mer and look forward to learning all there is to know.”
Standing just behind Gwen, Whittaker shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels. “I’ll bet you are,” he muttered under his breath.
Gwen glanced toward him. By the stiffness in Whittaker’s posture and the look on his face, he was displeased with the entire situation. She didn’t blame him one bit. It wasn’t a place she wanted to be, either.
Dr. Yadira glanced at her watch, then motioned for everyone to follow her. “We were just in the process of bringing the other Mer out from under their sedation. They should be awake momentarily.” She glanced over her shoulder as she walked, moving in quick, efficient steps that wasted no time. “I don’t wish to alarm you, but they are re
strained for their own protection as well as that of my staff.”
Thompson turned and added, “Please be assured we are doing our best to treat them as humanely as possible,” he explained, attempting to lessen the severity of his words by speaking in a neutral tone. “They have proven to be quite hostile.”
Tessa nodded. “I can tell you right now they probably won’t be very cooperative. In Ishaldi, which is where they come from, their society refuses to recognize humans as equals.”
One of the doctors accompanying Yadira turned mid-stride. “I’m very interested to know more about Ishaldi and how you entered into it.” He grinned ear to ear. “I’ve been tracking the signal strength of the magnetic emissions from the M441966 site and they’ve literally gone off the charts since the quake.”
Thompson made a quick introduction. “This young, fresh-faced upstart is Dr. Steven Novak, formerly with NASA.”
Novak nodded eagerly. “For the longest time I’ve suspected the anomaly to be the representation of a time or domain signal. To find out that it could be the actual entrance to a wormhole will blow all theories concerning space and time right out of the water.”
Kenneth raised his brows. “So the government has actually been aware of this thing for quite a while?”
“Since before I was born, actually,” Novak confirmed. “But it’s always been quite muted. And we’ve had no way to even begin to get close to it given the instability of the seabed. It’s hard to maneuver those unmanned submersibles in some of the canyon regions.”
Tessa couldn’t suppress her smile. “Been there, done that.”
Novak’s brows shot clear up his forehead. Another inch higher and they would have disappeared entirely. “Really? Tell me, is there any limitation to the depths a mermaid can descend? And how long can you stay under, if you don’t mind my asking?”